


Dinnertime at Arthur's

by Sunflow3r



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Witch Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunflow3r/pseuds/Sunflow3r
Summary: Alfred Jones, a struggling college student, goes on a ride down an English highway, only to fall asleep and wake up with a tree smashed into his car. With the help of a witch that cannot practice magic, Jones embarks on a crazy journey in order to repair his car in a fairytale world that ends up being the adventure of his life.





	Dinnertime at Arthur's

 

In a testament to the power of fatigue, Alfred F. Jones slammed on the brakes of his Volkswagen Beetle and parked beside a breezy willow tree that he guessed was about a century old, right before he knocked his head up against the leather headrest and fell asleep. He’d been driving for hours down a highway riddled with potholes and overgrown weeds until he realized he’d taken the wrong fork in the road. Initially, he was heading towards an apartment complex for a study session with a friend, but he’d ended up completely elsewhere.

 

Alfred only realized he wasn’t in the right place when he stepped out of the car and took a long, scrutinizing look at his surroundings, which was 90% flat grassland and the occasional 10% pretty tree. He knew he had to leave and get back to his desired destination, but since it was midnight, and the eerily cold air outside was giving him the heebie jeebies, Alfred figured it wasn’t worth risking the impending, probable risk of death while driving down a highway with a case of the heavy eyes. As an insomniac college student, a good night’s rest was a dream come true.

 

Alfred Jones currently lived in England, a land of perpetual sogginess and the always lingering, mildly acidic taste of rainwater. Oh, and the terrible food. Prior to the misadventure, Jones had eaten a jumbo burger and triple sized cup of Coke for dinner since it was the only edible thing in the entire country. Call him an airhead all you want, but Alfred was completely self-aware of his bad nutritional choices. He swore it wasn't his fault! The salad at the gas station was five dollars more than the burger meal, so as penniless tramp, he had no choice.

 

Nevertheless, Alfred felt the greasy fast-food atrocity attacking his insides, and almost jerked out of his seat, clutching his stomach as if he’d been stabbed. Groaning and unwilling to move thanks to his horrible diet, a very sleepy Alfred ripped a loud yawn and tried to get his limbs working. Although he was suffering from an agonizing stomach-ache, the fact that he had slept enough to the point of comfort outweighed all cons. Still yawning, he rubbed his eyes open and blinked at the cloudy sky through the windscreen. It was sprinkling outside, and the sound of the gentle pitter-patter was music to his ears. Behold, the sounds of nature.

 

He subconsciously corrected his awkward fetal position and sat like normally, resting his feet on the dash as he stumbled around with both hands for his glasses that he’d lost in the blurry abyss that was his bad eyesight. When he found the delicate frames, he slid them up the bridge of his nose and blinked twice more to get used to his improved vision.

 

And then he was met with the sight of the same century-old willow tree he had parked next to, comfortably snuggled into the dented hood of his Volkswagen.

At first, he thought he was dreaming. After he punched himself in the thigh multiple times, unable to confront the reality of this horrible predicament, Alfred staggered out of the vehicle and ran his fingertips over the mashed steel panels of his childhood Beetle.

“Nope. No way. What the hell. What have I done to you, Bessie?” He muttered under his breath, feeling a sickening dread bubble in his chest. There was no way he’d pay off the costs of car repair when he couldn’t even buy the textbooks his overbearing professors advertised. In short, Alfred Jones was locked in the prison cell of everlasting debt, and now he’d thrown the key out of reach. With his daily levels of positivity still dwindling on its last supply, Alfred inspected the crushed hood of the Volkswagen, deducing that he might be able to hoist the giant of a tree trunk up and off his precious car. So he tried just that, slipping on a pair of leather gloves he’d found squashed in the back seat. Hastily, he threw himself on the ground beside Bessie’s wheel.

He pushed the trunk upwards with clenched teeth, his muscles bulging and screaming for relief. The steel creaked as his car groaned, perhaps begging him to stop, and Alfred finally gave into his body’s desires, taking a well-deserved rest. If Jones were being honest, a part of him knew that there was no way he’d solve this problem alone. He hadn’t lifted weights since three years ago, (when his life was still on track), so the outcome was predictable from the start. Now in total despair and at a complete loss for answers, Alfred retrieved his phone from the dashboard and promptly called roadside assistance, but got no answer as he soon discovered there was no reception in the rolling hills of the English countryside. He thought it was a perfect scenario for a murder mystery series.

 

Snapping into panic mode, Alfred jumped back into his car and jotted down his exact location on a very ambiguous map he’d crudely drawn from his knowledge on the area, (which he didn’t have much of) and was forced to conclude that he was in fact more clueless on his whereabouts than Tom Hanks in Cast Away. The one thing he did know was that he was in some shady suburb called ‘Winnidale’ thanks to the crooked sign that had corroded and been left to rot a few miles back, barely hanging on its designated pole beside a rundown shack, possibly abandoned.

The number one tip his brother Matthew told him in the event that he got lost, was to find another capable human being. Okay, sure. Not too hard. Alfred readjusted his glasses and fixed his gaze on the horizon. There was literally nothing but little mounds of mossy grass. No buildings. Not even trees. Just a never ending, vast expanse of green.

 

‘Okay, sure,’ he admitted, ‘Pretty difficult.’

 

Alfred forcefully exhaled from his nose and drummed the cracked dashboard with his fingernails. He felt he could wait for another car and hail it down, but Alfred knew he had to rule that one out because he hadn’t seen another automobile pass him since the moment he had parked by the tree for the supposedly ‘quick’ nap. Plus, it was now raining heavily outside, and God forbid he got a cold. Wherever he was, not a living soul seemed to live in the area. It was so deserted that Alfred was confident that this was a convenient place to bury a murdered man.

He groaned in frustration, leaving his seat again to stand beside his car with the assistance of an umbrella, and pace around in circles in an attempt to awaken an epiphany. For the next five minutes, there was no epiphany. But there was a cute black cat that had come out of nowhere and appeared on the other side of the pothole-ridden road. So it wasn’t exactly an epiphany, or a good solution, but it was nice to be able to finally interact with something living.

 

Alfred watched as the cat jumped onto his shoes, as if it were trying to seek shelter from the merciless rain from under his red umbrella. Upon closer inspection, Alfred found that the cat owned a snazzy bowtie around its neck. He realized that there was no way it could be a stray, since, well.. The bowtie. Bowties don’t come out of nowhere.

 

“Where are you from, cutie pie? Are you from around here? I’m kinda lost. Not that you can help or anythin..” Alfred cradled the feline like a baby, scratching the underside of its chin with gentle laughter. He brushed his fingertip against the cat’s whiskers, chuckling when it mewed affectionately and chewed on his finger.

 

The cat mewed again and licked Alfred’s exposed arm, earning him a small ‘awww’. Then it sprang on its hind legs and jumped into the Volkswagen, purring and rubbing its fur all over the place. Thankfully, Jones had a soft spot for furry creatures, and decided not to bother the cat, because it seemed to be enjoying the dry space of his vehicle’s interior.

 

“I don’t have food, if that’s what you’re looking for. Do you like veggies? I have leftover lettuce from my burger last night.” Alfred ducked into the car and wagged a stale scrap of lettuce from a scrunched paper bag labelled ‘FAST FOOD’ from under the passenger seat.

“That’s disgusting,” the cat blanched, its tongue hanging out like a dog.

“Yeah I know. WAIT. Excuse me?” Alfred swung his body 180 degrees so fast that his spine could have snapped from the momentum. The cat had a feline equivalent of a frown on its face.

“I said, it’s disgusting. I might as well eat you, but seeing that you eat that kind of junk, I’m having second thoughts.”

Alfred froze. He felt his head go light. He was either going insane, or actually seeing a bowtie-wearing cat talk modern English. This was it. This was how Alfred F Jones was going to die. Swallowed whole by a man eating cat.

“I knew this place was perfect for crime.” He muttered under his breath, slapping the disappointing lettuce back into the paper bag.

“How do you talk? Man, this is kinda cool. Tell me your name.”

The cat snorted. (Cats can snort?!)

“My name is Lovino. I can only talk because of a curse. Now give me some good food, or else i’m gonna hafta leave you here to die.”

Lovino sat unnaturally, almost like a human, with his hind legs stretched out in front of him and front paws folded.

 

_Oh man, if Grumpy Cat could talk._

Alfred wanted to burst out laughing, but chose not to in fear that Lovino might pull out some undisclosed superpower on him.

“Leave? You have somewhere to go?”

Alfred sat back in his seat, relieved that the talking cat might be able to help him. Maybe Lovino lived around the area. Maybe his owner lived close by.

 

“Are you accusing me of being homeless? Hmph. Where are your manners, Jones?”

 

“You literally threatened to eat me five seconds ago! And how do you know my name?”

 

“Oh I just know. And I never threatened to eat your all-fat body. I only suggested.”

 

As the cat glanced pointedly in his direction, Alfred swore that Lovino was readying himself for a feast. For once he felt insecure of his stomach chub. Not that it mattered if he was going to get eaten. “Oi. I’m not all-fat.”

 

“What else are you, cholesterol?”

Lovino purred, preening his dewy body. Despite having been out in shelterless, rainy weather, the cat looked dry overall, which puzzled Alfred very much.

 

“Look, Lovi, I need to find a way to get help. Is talking sass your only talent? Magic powers would be useful considering the… uh..” Alfred gestured towards the willow tree that had smashed itself into the hood.

 

“Nobody calls me Lovi except for my master. And I can only talk. No special powers for me.”

 

Alfred’s ears perked up at the word.

“Master? So you have an owner! Is he human?”

 

Sourly glaring, the cat stood back up and took a long, sweeping look outside the window.

“Bold of you to assume his gender.”

 

Alfred was a single step away from punching the cat. Surely, Lovino had a penchant for being a sassy ball of fur. “Please, just help me get out of this mess. I’ll buy you a steak or something.”

 

With eyes burning with the heat of a thousand suns, Lovino hissed and jumped into the air, prancing around with joy. “A steak! A steak! I’ll help you, but you have to promise me a steak. Or else i’ll eat you.”

 

Alfred didn't want to admit it, but he found the cat a little endearing. Even in the presence of the risk that he might die in the stomach of the feline.

“M'kay. Deal.”

He adjusted his glasses and grinned, feeling an influx of solace entering his heart.

“Can I ask why you’re all the way out here, looking for food from strangers?”

 

“My master sucks at cooking. I have to find it myself, or eat the crap he makes. I always vomit it out anyways, so there’s no point eating his food.”

Lovino gagged as if traumatically recalling whatever abomination that he was used to being served. He steadily jumped out the open window and motioned with his paw for Alfred to follow.

 

Alfred smiled softly and nodded. “I’m coming. Just let me grab my stuff.”

He snatched his wallet and phone, shoving them into his jeans pocket as he made sure to lock the Beetle before he left.

“I’ll come back, Bessie. I promise."

He pat the roof of his car lovingly and turned around to find Lovino staring at him, his tail impatiently tapping on the ground beside him.

 

"You're creepy, Jones." Lovino remarked, catty eyebrows raised, before he resumed his walk into the grassy plains.

 

"And you're a talking cat."

\---------------------------------

 

Alfred's umbrella offered meager protection against the hateful combination of wind and rain. All the while he struggled, Lovino seemed unaffected by the turbulent weather, ambling along as if there was nothing else in the world better than this. Even though he was three times smaller than Alfred and travelling at an idle pace, Lovino was way ahead of him.

The wet mulch underneath the soles of Alfred's feet squelched with every step, and the further he walked from the road he had been stuck on, the more he felt like he was sinking into the everlasting plains of grass and eternal precipitation. He didn't know how long he had been walking for, but it certainly had been a while, since the sky was turning dark at a steady pace.

 

"Lovi? How much longer do we have to- OH NOO!" Alfred flailed his arms as a particularly strong gust of wind snatched his useless umbrella from out of his grasp. As he watched his only defense against the pelting rain fly away and out of reach, he pouted and stomped his wet, aching feet, yelling and cursing about how much the world hated him and how much he hated the world.

 

"Not much longer. Do you see that glow over there? That's my Master's house." Lovino's long tail swished as he frolicked around, sparing the angered Alfred a cursory glance. "Don't be so upset. We're nearly there."

He suddenly dashed ahead, and the sudden movement of the initially lazed creature completely threw Alfred off.

 

"Where are you going?! Crap, I can't see."

The black furball was nothing but a blurry speck when Alfred took off his glasses to wipe the raindrops off. But it didn't do much, because his hoodie had already been soaked to the point that it couldn't possibly dry anything.

"Wait for me, will you? Lovi? Hey! You can't just leave me here!"

All was futile, and his voice was drowned out by the crashing sounds of raindrops and distant thunder. The cat was long gone, too. Alfred really hated this. All he ever wanted was to find a mechanic or someone useful to come and help him. Now he was trekking miles and miles of soggy ground with an unbearably annoying cat in search of a 'Master' that he couldn't tell would be willing to help. It was all so terrible. He just wanted to go home.

He sobbed as he squished the glasses into his pocket, knowing that wearing them was just a hindrance. Now looking straight ahead, he saw in the distance a soft, warm glow. The glow was blurred and Alfred couldn't figure out the source of the light through all the rain. The inviting glow radiated with enough shine to remind him of a fireplace. Alfred's breath quickened and he felt his heart leap with joy. Whatever it was, he had a great feeling about it. He ran as hard and fast towards the glow as he could, but with every prance, he found that his pace was slowing and that he wasn't going anywhere.

It didn't bother him at first when the ground pulled at his feet as he ran.

But now he was sinking -actually descending into what felt like boggy mud from hell- and he had no idea what to do. Like any other rational human being, Alfred panicked, and tried in vain to free himself from the grappling, sticky soil by frantically scooping out handfuls of mud around his sunken feet.

 

A tiny voice appeared in the back of his head. He bat it away, too caught up in the tribulations of digging himself out of the ground. The voice reappeared, much louder compared to the first time. Alfred ignored it again, desperate tears mixing with the rainwater splashed against his face. He spent another eternity digging and digging and digging until his hands went sore and skin turned red.

Now waist deep into the waterlogged land, Alfred weakly cried out for help, although he knew it wouldn't reach anyone. But the voice came back to him, as soft and tender as before. He stopped digging and acknowledged it this time, the remnants of his hope barely dwindling.

 _'Relax',_ it said. _'Relax, and you'll find the way.'_

He didn't need to calm himself down. The lulling tone of the voice had already done that for him. At the same time, it had given him the answer to all his problems.

"Thank you." Alfred whispered, slowly dragging his body upwards with the speed of a snail. His leisurely movements were what seemed to help him out of the mush, and he was finally understanding why Lovino had walked with such deliberate pace. It was all making sense, and he actually laughed when he got out of the muddy quicksand.

Finally putting two and two together, he resumed his now-relaxed journey towards the glowing light, with every step as swift as the wind. What bewildered him the most was that the breeze was helping him dry the rain off, even though it was still raining. Perhaps this was how Lovino had managed to look so dry.

 

Unsurprisingly, he reached his destination quicker than he initially expected.

"Woah."

A small wooden cottage stood in front of him, a warm glow seeping through the lattices. The structure was situated atop a few brick stilts, which Alfred thought was quite effective against the growing level of groundwater. He gently ambled up a small flight of stairs and reached the front porch where a pair of shoes stood beside a doormat that read: ' **Welcome to all but snowmen'.**

Then it clicked. This was the same abandoned shack he had seen before he fell asleep beside the willow tree. Only now, it seemed to have been magically renovated. He remembered that all the windows were shattered when he passed the building at first, but the glass in front of him looked undisturbed. It even shone like diamonds.

Confused but still determined, Alfred scrunched his hand into a fist and knocked the door, lips pursing as he waited. He just didn't know what to expect, considering he had just met a talking cat. A traitorous, talking cat that he would pummel to the ground if he ever saw it again.

"Hello? Does anyone live here?"

Jones wiped his shoes on the mat, cringing as he noticed the trail of muck he had left behind in his wake. The owner wasn't going to like that.

His ears perked up when he heard a rumble from inside the cottage, which gradually grew louder as it neared the front door. Alfred hastily looked through an adjacent window in curiosity, but it was covered with a lace curtain that he couldn't afford to see through without his glasses, which he lost in the mud.

The rumble, which Alfred could now identify as thumping footsteps, stopped right when it reached its loudest.

He braced himself as the door swivelled open.

 

"Good evening. First of all, are you a snowman? If not, how may I help you?"

A man, shrouded in a red scarf and an obscenely large witch hat, emerged from the gap in the doorway with a lantern in hand. The burning cherry of the candle flame washed his face in a pale red light. But even in the dark, Alfred could see his eyes- fierce emeralds. Stunned by the beauty of the spectacle, Alfred became enraptured, also by the nature of the man's speech as much as the cadence of his voice.

 

"I don't have a carrot nose. Does that suffice?" Alfred grinned awkwardly, suddenly forgetting the reason for his journey, and the reason for everything. Love at first sight worked in mysterious ways.

  


The scarf-clad man scratched his chin thoughtfully. “You’re right.” He whispered. Then he swung the door open a little wider and beckoned Alfred inside.

 

"Come in. I haven't had visitors in such a long time, so I'm grateful." He coyly mirrored Alfred's smile, albeit more toothier.

"Goodness me. Look at the state of you.. Well? Are you coming? Or are you going to wait for me to bring you inside?" He asked, seeing as though Alfred was frozen to the ground like a statue.

 

"Y-yeah. Thanks so much, uh... What's your name?" Alfred asked, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

  


"You can call me Arthur."

Arthur stepped out the doorway and looked up at the sky, his face brightening up like blooming flowers.

"Oh, will you look at that? You're just in time for dinner.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> After I watched a tonne of Ghibli movies, I wanted to write my own fairytale-esque fanfic. I just hope that this doesn't become a flop :") 
> 
> Second chapter will be here by next week! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated~


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